ii 

•II 


& 

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TALES 


OF 


CITY  LIFE. 


I.  THE   CITY   CLERK. 
H.    "LIFE   IS    SWEET." 


BY    CATHARINE    M.   SEDGWICK. 


WITH    FOUR    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PHILADELPHIA  : 
HAZARD    AND    MITCHELL, 

178  CHESXUT   STREET. 

1850. 


THE  CITY  CLERK 


BY   MISS   CATHABINE   M.  BEDGWICK. 


THE   CITY  CLEEK. 


A  sister's  love!  I  dwell  upon  the  theme — 
The  only  love  on  earth  to  which  the  earth 
Has  given  no  taint  of  self-regardful  care. 

HEITRY  WARE. 

IT  is  about  the  middle  of  November — 
a  bright,  soft  day,  when  the  genial  spirit 
of  the  year  looks  back  with  one  of  his 
farewell  smiles.  His  warm  breath  has 
spread  a  silver  haze  over  the  rugged  hill 
sides.  The  mountain  tops  are  shining 
— the  dried  leaves  bitten  off  by  the  frost, 

5 

M113862 


6  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

turn  round  and  round,  and  drop  without 
a  sound.  A  rather  narrow,  brisk  stream 
runs  rapidly,  descending  as  it  goes,  till 
it  reaches  the  rear  of  a  one  story  house, 
where,  being  set  back  by  a  dam  below, 
it  seems  like  a  plate  of  burnished  steel 
from  which  a  soft  vapor  is  rising.  Around 
its  edges  is  a  thin  coating  of  ice,  indicat 
ing  the  cold  of  the  preceding  night.  The 
house  stands  on*the  declivity  of  a  hill 
that  slopes  gradually  from  the  road,  (a 
hundred  yards  from  it,)  with  one  end  to 
the  river,  the  other  to  the  road,  and  front 
ing  south.  Behind  it  is  a  little  garden 
patch,  which,  in  its  winter  adversity, 
shows  signs  of  being  cared  for  and  loved ; 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  7 

some  plants  being  carefully  tied  up,  and 
a  few  covered  with  old  boxes  and  barrels. 
There  are  some  other  signs  of  refinement, 
not  too  common  about  the  humble  dwell 
ings  of  our  country  parts ;  vines  trained 
about  the  low  door,  and  rose  bushes  so 
nicely  fitted  around  the  old  windows,  that 
they  seem  to  have  come  to  stay  there  of 
their  own  accord.  Neatness,  that  good 
angel  of  an  humble  home,  keeping  all 
right  with  her  ever-rustling  wings,  hover 
round  this  pretty  dwelling.  A  small 
woodpile  is  laid  up  as  if  by  mathematical 
rule.  No  litter  of  any  kind  is  any  where 
to  be  seen,  and  one  wonders  what  the 
splendid  cock,  with  his  pedestrian  harem, 


8 


THE    CITY   CLERK. 


can  find  to  make  them  pick  so  busily 
around  the  sunny  doorway. 

It  is  but  nine  o'clock,  and  morning  at 
that  hour,  on  the  fifteenth  of  November, 
had  hardly  dawned  on  luxurious  dwellers 
in  great  homes ;  but  here  how  much  of 
the  daily  work  of  life  had  been  accom 
plished.  A  pale,  and  in  common  par 
lance,  "  unfortunate  man/7  is  sitting  bol 
stered  in  an  easy  chair  near  a  cheerful 
fire,  his  right  arm  and  leg,  withered  and 
useless.  His  wife,  a  woman  with  a  mild, 
thoughtful  face,  sits  near  the  window, 
making  a  vest,  and  with  the  implements 
of  tailoring  about  her.  With  every  stitch, 
and  without  hindering  it,  she  turns  her 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  9 

eye  on  the  lame  man,  and  addressing 
him  as  country  wives  use,  she  says,  "  Do 
you  find  your  paper  interesting,  father  ? 
Is  it  not  almost  time  for  father's  drops  ?" 
and  the  answer  is,  "Yes,"  or  "No,"  as 
may  be,  but  always  in  a  cheerful  tone, 
which,  coming  from  that  poor,  mutilated 
figure,  is  startling,  like  a  light  suddenly 
kindled  in  darkness.  A  trig,  little  lass 
is  putting  the  last  touches  to  the  morn 
ing's  housework.  She  has  cleared  away 
the  breakfast,  skimmed  the  milk,  "swept 
up,"  and  "mopped  up,"  and  is  ready  to 
<;it  down  by  her  mother,  to  finish  off  the 
work  that  always  accumulates  for  Satur 
day.  Both  father's  and  mother's  eyes 


10  THE   CITY   CLERK. 

often  turn  to  her,  and  who  would  not  love 
to  look  on  a  face  so  beaming  with  intel 
ligence,  so  fresh  and  cheerful.  Never 
were  there  prettier  or  brighter  lips,  or 
more  beautiful  teeth,  or  in  palace  or  cot 
tage,  a  more  electrifying  smile  than  little 
Kuth  Hathaway's.  Perhaps  it  derived 
this  quality  from  a  cast  of  sadness  and 
care  on  her  brow ;  it  was  a  shadow  on  a 
rose.  There  it  was  when  her  father  was 
brought  home  from  his  new  factory,  with 
the  flesh  torn  from  his  arm  and  leg,  and 
there  it  remained  indelible.  As  to  the 
rest,  the  face  is  pretty  pleasing,  but  not 
beautiful ;  her  eyes  are  rather  small  and 
greyish,  and  her  complexion,  clear  and 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  11 

pure,  is  not  brilliant.  Her  hair  not  only 
does  not  curl,  and  is  neither  auburn, 
chestnut,  nor  raven,  but  a  very  common 
brown,  and  only  remarkable  for  the  neat 
ness  with  which  she  arranges  it  on  her 
well-shaped  head.  Euth  is  said  to  be 
the  image  of  her  father,  and  she  rather 
prides  herself  on  this  resemblance. 

Ealph  Hathaway  is  reckoned  by  com 
mon  observers,  as  we  have  said,  an 
"  unfortunate  man ;"  but  could  any 
amount  of  ill  luck  or  calamity  make  that 
epithet  fitting  him  whose  temperament 
is  so  cheerful,  that  his  sun  will  break 
through  the  heaviest  clouds  ?  His  heart 
is  a  never-intermitting  fountain  of 


12  THE    CITY   CLERK. 

love  to  God,  and  peace  and  good  will  to 
man. 

"Ruth,  what  are  yon  listening  for?77 
asked  the  father;  "I  hear  nothing  but 
the  factory.77 

"Nor  I,  father;  I  wish  we  did  not 
always  hear  that, — it " 

"  It  puts  you  in  mind  of  father's  acci 
dent  ?  I  know,  Ruthy,  and  so  it  does  me ; 
but  then  it  sets  me  off  thinking  how  my 
life  was  spared,  and  how  I  should  never 
have  known  what  a  good  woman  mother 
is,  but  for  that — 'tis  not  every  wife  that 
would  care  for  such  a  poor  rack  as  I  am.'7 

"0,  father!"  exclaimed  both  mother 
and  child. 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  13 

"Well,  then,  it  is  not  every  woman 
that  would  give  up  the  thoughts  of  being 
the  wife  of  a  rich  agent  for  a  company, 
move  out  of  a  nice  new  house,  and  stitch, 
stitch  from  morning  to  night,  to  support 
her  family.  Who  has  a  right  to  be 
cheerful  if  I  have  not  ?  I  can  tell  you 
there's  times  when  the  factory  makes  my 
thoughts  go  straight  up.7' 

Our  friend  Hathaway  7s  voice  was 
rather  choked ;  he  cleared  it,  and  added, 
"but  what  were  you  listening  to,  Euthy, 
dear?" 

"Why,  father,  I  was  listening  for  the 
railroad  whistle ;  we  always  hear  it,  you 
know,  when  the  wind  is  west.77 
2 


14  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

"Why,  I  heard  it,  Kuth,  when  you 
were  setting  up  the  dishes.'7 

"Oh,  did  you,  father?  then  Charlie's 
letter  is  near  the  post  office  by  this 
time." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure,  my  child." 

"I  can't  help  being  sure,  mother. 
Charlie  never  fails  to  write  when  he  says 
he  will,  and  this  letter  is  to  tell  us 
whether  he  can  come  home  to  thanks 
giving,  and  it  is  only  twelve  days  to 
that,  and  I  shall  be  just  sixteen  that 
day." 

"Yes,  yes,  Euthy,"  said  the  father, 
"came  what  come  may,  thanksgiving 
day  will  always  be  thanksgiving  to  us." 


THE   CITY   CLERK. 


15 


"  Oh,  there's  Colonel  Miles !"  exclaimed 
Euth,  and  she  rushed  to  the  door,  not, 
however,  without  giving  her  father  a 
brush  of  a  kiss  as  she  passed. 

"  Colonel  Miles  I"  she  shouted,  "can't 
you  please  to  stop  at  the  post  office,  and 
bring  our  letter  from  Charlie  ?"  The 
colonel  was  not  going  to  the  post  office, 
but  his  turning  ofif  place  was  near  it,  and 
it  was  but  the  work  of  two  minutes  for 
Euth  to  beg  a  seat  in  his  little  wagon,  to 
get  her  mother's  leave  to  go  herself  to 
the  post  office,  to  take  the  chance  of  the 
two  miles'  walk  home  if  she  did  not  get 
a  cast,  and  above  all,  to  obtain  leave  to 
open  the  letter  herself,  as  soon  as  re- 


16  THE   CITY   CLERK. 

ceived,  to  whichever  of  the  family  it 
might  be  addressed. 

Three  hours  had  passed  away,  when 
Anthony,  a  colored  man,  living  at  Mr. 
Gardner7  s,  in  the  village,  brought  Mrs. 
Hathaway  a  letter  from  Euth.  It  en 
closed  one  from  Charles.  On  Kuth's 
letter  was  written  in  large  characters, 
"Kead  this  first;77  and  the  mother  read 
as  follows : 

"  Dear  mother,  and  father, — Don't  feel 
too  bad.  I  shall  be  on  my  way  to  JSTew 
York  when  you  get  this.  Miss  Emma 
Gardner  has  lent  me  ten  dollars,  and 
what  clothes  I  shall  want.  Father  can't 
go ;  and  you  can't  leave  father,  mother ; 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  17 

and  I — /  cartt  stay.  Father,  you  will 
keep  up  mother's  spirits,  won't  you?  I 
know  it  will  all  come  right. 

"  P.  S.  Mr.  Gardner  has  gone  to  Bos 
ton,  so  Miss  Emma  and  I  had  no  one  to 
consult  with.  I  would  not  tell  any  body 
else  for  the  world." 

Mrs.  Hathaway,  pale  and  trembling, 
gave  the  letter  to  her  husband,  while  she 
read  that  from  her  son  Charles. 

"  Dear  father,  and  mother,  and  Ruth, — 
I  have  got  into  some  trouble.  I  ask  of 
you  all  not  to  feel  anxious  or  distressed. 
I  expect  (expect  was  erased,  and  hope  sub 
stituted,)  "  to  get  out  well,  but  if  I  don't, 
I  shall  still  keep  'right  side  up,'  as  father 


18 


THE    CITY    CLERK. 


would  say.  Now  be  calm,  mother,  dear. 
Just  before  we  locked  up  last  night,  I 
observed  a  stranger  come  into  the  shop ; 
the  doors  were  closed,  and  all  the  clerks 
called  into  the  middle  of  the  shop,  away 
from  the  counters.  Otis  Jackson  was 
standing  close  to  me  at  the  time  we  were 
spoken  to.  I  heard  him  mutter,  '  d — n 
it/  but  I  had  not  the  least  thought  of 
what  was  coming.  Mr.  Brown  stood  one 
side  of  the  stranger,  Mr.  "Wilson  the  other. 
Mr.  Brown  spoke :  '  We  have  been  miss 
ing/  says  he,  'fine  goods  for  the  last 
month ;  a  shawl  was  taken  last  week ; 
two  yards  of  costly  lace,  and  one  of  the 
five  dollar  pocket  handkerchiefs  are  gone 


THE    CITY    CLERK. 


10 


to-day.  We  have  a  police  man  here,  and 
you  must  all  be  searched.  One  of  you 
must  be  guilty.  I  am  sorry  for  the  in 
nocent,  but  no  disgrace  will  rest  upon 
them  —  do  your  duty,  Eushton.7  The 
policeman  began  the  search.  Some  of 
our  young  men  laughed  and  joked ;  I 
could  not,  I  was  afraid  it  would  prove  to 
be  Otis.  He  was  the  fourth  searched, 
nothing  was  found  on  him.  My  turn 
came  next ;  the  things  were  found  in  my 
coat  pocket,  atop  of  my  handkerchief 
and  every  thing,  just  as  if  they  had  been 
put  there.  How  the  truth  is  to  be  found 
out,  I  don't  know,  but  I  feel  as  if  it  would. 
All  I  ask  is,  that  father  will  keep  up 


20  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

mother's  spirits,  and  dear  Kuth,  only 
think  how  you  would  all  feel  if  I  had 
taken  the  things.  I  shall  write  daily,  so 
don't  be  anxious. 

Ever  your  loving  son  and  brother, 

CHARLES. 

"P.  S.  Direct  to  me,  'care  of  Kobert 
Henshaw;'  he  is  my  friend  among  the 
clerks," 

There  was  a  dead  silence  in  that  home 
of  the  Hathaways,  till  the  father  breaking 
out  into  something  between  a  cry  and  a 
laugh,  said,  "  Mother,  Charles  is  an  honest 
boy,  and  well  trained,  and  that  is  comfort 
enough ;  how  often  have  you  said  to  me, 
1  Charlie  never  told  a  lie  in  his  life.7  " 


I  THE   CITY   CLERK.  21 

"He  never  did,  he  never  will!"  sobbed 
out  the  poor  mother. 

"Come  here,  mother — kneel  down 
here — we'll  trust  him  with  our  Father 
and  his  Father ;  well  commit  the  case 
to  Him,  and  then  we  shall  feel  better;" 
and  the  still,  small  voice  of  their  prayer 
arose,  and  God  was  there. 

The  next  morning,  at  nine  o'clock, 
Euth  Hathaway  disembarked  from  a 
Hudson  steamer,  on  a  New  York  wharf, 
dirty,  crowded,  and  noisy  enough  to  have 
confounded  a  head  and  heart  less  clear 
and  strong  of  purpose  than  hers.  She 
had  inquired  of  the  captain  the  way  to 
Canal  street,  where  Brown  and  Wilson's 


22  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

shop  is,  and  with  her  little  sack,  contain 
ing  her  change  of  clothes,  in  her  hand, 
she  walked  straight  up  Liberty  street,  to 
Broadway.  Her  quick  step  had  caught 
the  eye  of  an  omnibus  driver,  who  beck 
oned  to  her,  and  she  nodding  affirma 
tively,  jumped  into  the  coach,  thinking 
"how  very  kind  it  was  for  him  to  give 
her  a  ride!"  She  asked  a  man,  one  of 
four  passengers,  to  tell  her  when  she  got 
to  Canal  street,  and  accordingly  the  man 
pulled  the  strap,  the  coach  stopped,  and 
with  her  habitual  impetuous  movements, 
she  jumped  out,  and  dropping  a  curtsy 
to  the  driver,  said,  "Thank  you,  sir." 
He,  fancying  she  was  tricking  him,  called 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  23 

out,  ".That's  cool!  Stop  that  hussey! 
She's  dodged  her  fare  I"  An  impediment 
of  vehicles  had  accumulated  the  passen 
gers  on  the  sidewalk,  at  the  corner  of 
Canal  street.  Every  eye  was  turned  on 
our  poor  little  stranger.  She  stopped, 
turned  round,  and  in  a  voice  that  in 
dicated  her  honest  perplexity,  asked, 
"  What  does  he  mean  1"  "  He  means  to 
be  paid,  my  child/7  said  an  elderly  gen 
tleman,  who  was  struck  with  the  simpli 
city  of  Ruth's  manner;  and  himself  gave 
the  fare  to  the  vociferating  driver.  Euth 
now  comprehended  her  mistake,  and  re 
paying  the  sixpence,  she  said,  with  her 
characteristic  good  sense,  "I  am  a 


24 


THE    CITY    CLERK. 


stranger  in  New  York,  sir,  or  I  should 
have  known  better.  He  invited  me  to 
ride  with  him,  and  the  people  where  I 
live  often  give  rides  to  strangers." 

Her  friend  again  smiled  at  her  simpli 
city,  advised  her  to  keep  a  good  lookout, 
now  she  had  come  to  the  city,  and  they 
parted ;  he  thinking  her  sweet  smile 
might  pay  her  fare,  and  she  to  look  for 
the  sign  of  "  Brown,  Wilson  and  Co.," 
which  she  soon  found,  and  entered  the 
shop.  It  was  thronged  with  eager  buyers 
and  civil  clerks,  intent  on  their  sales. 
She  looked  up  and  down  the  long  coun 
ters,  all  were  unknown  to  her,  till  at  the 
extremity  of  one,  she  saw  Otis  Jackson. 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  25 

His  eye  met  hers,  and  instantly  fell;  she 
saw,  that  in  that  glance,  he  had  recog 
nized  her.  He  was  her  townsman,  and 
an  old  schoolmate  of  her  brother,  two 
years  older  than  Charles  Hathaway. 
Euth  went  to  the  end  of  the  counter 
where  he  stood,  and  said,  "Otis," -her 
voice  was  low,  but  it  had  a  heart-sound ; 
it  seemed  to  come,  as  it,  indeed,  did,  from 
another  world  than  that  vanity-fair  that 
surrounded  her.  Ladies  examining  laces, 
paused  to  look  at  her,  and  one  or  two  of 
the  clerks  turned  their  eyes  to  Otis  Jack 
son,  expecting  him  to  answer,  but  he 
averted  his  eye,  and  went  to  the  ex 
tremity  of  the  shop,  to  receive  some  new 

3 


26  THE    CITY   CLERK. 

customers.  "Is  Mr.  Henshaw  here?" 
asked  Euth.  She  was  civilly  answered, 
"Yes,"  and  Henshaw  was  summoned. 
"  Where  is  my  brother  ?"  she  said.  There 
were  tears  in  her  voice,  though  none  in 
her  eyes.  It  was  rather  an  indefinite  in 
quiry  from  a  total  stranger,  but  whether 
it  was  her  family  resemblance  to  her 
brother,  or  the  tone  of  her,  voice,  supply 
ing  all  that  the  words  wanted,  Henshaw 
was  sure  the  inquiry  was  for  Hathaway, 
and  coming  from  behind  the  counter, 
before  he  replied,  said,  in  a  low  voice  to 
Euth,  "  You  have  heard  of  your  brother's 
misfortune  ?" 

"  Yes ;  where  is  he  ?" 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  27 

"Why — lie — you  cannot  see  him  im 
mediately  ;  if  you  will  tell  me  where  you 
are  staying,  I  will  try  to  get  leave  to 
come  to  you  in  the  course  of  the  day,  and 
go  with  you  to  see  him." 

"Oh,  I  must  go  now.  I  shall  stay 
where  he  is ;  I  have  no  other  place." 

"Henshaw!"  called  out  Mr.  Brown, 
"who  are  you  talking  to  there?" 

Henshaw  went  close  to  him,  and  ex 
plained.  "A  pretty  business  this,"  said 
the  surly  master;  "look,  she  is  fingering 
over  the  laces ;  they  are  birds  of  a  feather, 
brother  and  sister !"  Poor  Kuth  had  un 
consciously  placed  her  hand  on  the  box 
of  laces.  "  Go  to  your  own  busines,  Hen- 


28  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

shaw,  behind  the  counter/7  added  Brown ; 
and  then  striding  up  to  Euth,  and  taking 
her  by  the  arm,  with  a  mixture  of  savage- 
ness  and  familiarity,  he  said,  "walk  out 
of  my  shop,  or  I  will  send  you  to  the 
police  office." 

"Tell  me  first  where  my  brother  is?" 
"Where  all  thieves  should  be — in  the 
Tombs." 

"  The  Tombs !  where  are  the  Tombs  ?" 
"  Go  out,  and  ask  along  the  street — 
you'll  soon  find  out." 

Euth  went  forth  with  a  burning  heart. 
She  walked  rapidly  a  few  steps  from  the 
hateful  shop,  and  then  stopped,  confused 
and  uncertain  what  next  to  do.  She 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  29 

looked  up  and  down  the  street,  and  in 
the  faces  of  the  passers-by.  No  one 
heeded  her,  while  it  seemed  to  her  that 
all  the  world  should  know  what  she  felt, 
and  what  she  wanted.  She  was  pro 
ceeding  slowly,  when  suddenly  a  finger 
touched  her  shoulder,  and  in  a  low  voice 
spoke  kindly  to  her.  It  was  Henshaw's. 
His  face  was  agitated  and  highly  colored, 
and  hardly  seemed  the  same  serene,  mild 
countenance  she  had  first  addressed.  "I 
will  go  with  you  now,"  he  said,  "to  see 
your  brother." 

"  Oh,  can  you?  how  kind  you  are." 
How   much  this   kindness   had   cost 
Henshaw,  Euth  little  dreamed.     On  her 


30  THE   CITY   CLERK. 

leaving  the  shop,  he  had  not  been  able 
to  repress  the  expression  of  his  indigna 
tion  at  Brown's  inhumanity.  Brown 
was  abusive.  Henshaw  was  hot  and 
hasty,  and  declaring  his  intention  of  at 
tending  the  little  girl  immediately  to  her 
brother,  Brown  told  him  if  he  then  left 
the  shop,  never  again  to  enter  it. 

"Is  it  far,  sir,"  asked  Euth,  "to  that 
place?" 

"JSTo;  a  very  short  distance." 

"I  suppose,  sir,  it  is  a a  prison?" 

"Yes;    a  house  of  detention,  where 
persons  are  confined  to  await  their  trial." 
"  Then  Charlie  is  not  yet  tried  ? — he  is 
not  yet  condemned,  is  he  ?" 


THE   CITY   CLERK.  31 

"No,  no;  not  yet." 

"Not  yet,"  struck,  like  a  tolling  bell, 
on  Ruth's  heart. 

"Your  brother,"  resumed  Henshaw, 
"wrote  to  you  the  circumstances?  He 
told  you,of  course,  that  he  was  not  guilty?" 

"No;  he  did  not  say  that" 

"He  did  not!"  exclaimed  Henshaw, 
in  an  alarmed  tone. 

"No,  sir;  why  should  he?"  she  asked, 
speaking  for  the  first  time  with  an  as 
sured  voice.  "You  would  not  ask  such 
a  question,  if  you  knew  Charles,  Mr. 
Henshaw." 

"I  do  know  him,  and  I  feel  a  confi 
dence  in  his  integrity, — but 


32  THE   CITY   CLERK. 

"But,  what? — oh,  do  speak  out." 
'"I  only  hesitated,  because  I  cannot 
bear  to  distress  you.  I  fear  we  shall 
have  difficulty  in  proving  your  brother's 
innocence;  but  we  will  not  talk  about 
that  now.  You  have  never  been  inside 
a  prison,  and  you  must  try  and  keep  up 
good  resolution," 

Euth  did  try.  But  when  she  saw  that 
huge,  stern  edifice,  called  the  Tombs — 
when  the  massive  locks  were  turned  to 
admit  her — and  when  the  keeper,  having 
been  requested  by  Henshaw  to  permit 
the  young  person  with  him  to  see  Charles 
Hathaway,  scarcely  noticing  her,  led 
them  along  the  dismal  corridors,  with 


THE    CITY    CLEKK.  33 

that  hardened  indifference  which  use 
gives,  her  heart  sunk,  and  her  feet  moved 
draggingly.  They  were  intercepted  and 
impeded  by  a  party  visiting  the  prison 
from  curiosity.  It  consisted  of  two  or 
three  elderly  people,  two  very  young 
ladies,  from  the  country,  full  of  pleasing 
excitement,  from  being,  for  the  first  time, 
within  prison  walls — the  scene,  to  their 
imaginations,  of  so  much  possible  ro 
mance — and  their  cousin,  a  young  city 
lawyer,  who  acted  as  exponent  of  the 
scene. 

"Babe,"  the  pirate,"  said  he  to  them, 
"  is  in  that  cell,  No.  81." 

"That  horrid  wretch  we  read  the  ac- 


34:  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

count  of,  in  the  newspaper?  How  I 
should  like  to  see  him !" 

"  There  is  a  still  more  curious  mon 
ster,  Cousin  Jane,  in  No.  83 — the  Ger 
man  who  burned  his  wife  to  death. " 

"  Oh,  horrors  I  And  who  can  that  be 
between  them,  in  No.  82  ?" 

"I  don't  know;  somebody  worse  than 
either,  I  suppose.  Who  is  it,  Mr.  Farran  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  his  name ;  a  lad  com 
mitted  for  stealing." 

"Let  us  pass,  if  you  please,  ladies/7 
said  Kuth's  conductor.  Our  amateur 
visitors  stared  at  Ruth.  One  said,  touch 
ing  her  cousin's  arm,  "  Oh,  Henry,  did 
you  ever  see  any  thing  so  pale  as  that 


THE    CITY   CLERK.  35 

poor  girl.     Mercy !     Do  you  think  she's 
going  to  be  shut  up  here?" 

"No;  that  is  impossible.  What  inno 
cence,  sweetness,  and  misery!77  Kuth's 
conductor  was  now  unbolting  the  door 
of  No.  82.  The  youngest  of  the  young 
ladies,  impelled  by  irrepressible  curiosity, 
followed  close  enough  to  see,  when  the 
door  was  opened,  a  handsome  youth,  palet 
haggard,  and  sorrowful,  bending  over  a 
sheet  of  paper,  on  which  he  was  intently 
writing.  She  could  see  that  the  paper 
was  wet  with  tears.  Euth  darted  into 
the  cell ;  the  keeper  shut  the  door,  and 
rebolting  it,  said  to  Henshaw,  coolly, 
5C  You  may  call  me  when  she  is  ready  to 


36  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

come  out."  Henshaw  walking  to  and  fro, 
unoccupied,  in  the  corridor,  presented  too 
tempting  an  opportunity  to  gratify  the 
young  ladies'  curiosity ;  and  their  cousin 
being  put  up  to  asking  some  questions, 
they  got  possession  of  Charles's  story, 
and,  what  was  far  more  important,  Hen 
shaw  found  out,  that  the  inquirer  was 
Henry  Sandley,  a  young  lawyer,  whose 
very  clever  management  of  a  criminal 
case  had,  a  few  weeks  before,  been  much 
talked  of  in  the  city.  Henshaw  gave 
him  a  retaining  fee  for  his  friend,  on  the 
spot,  and  Sandley  engaged  to  get  the 
trial  put  off  till  testimonials  of  Charles 
Hathaway  7s  good  character  could  be  ob- 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  37 

tained  from  the  country.  On  those  docu 
ments,  and  on  the  testimony  of  his  fel 
low  clerks,  he  said,  they  must  found  all 
their  hopes  of  clearing  him ;  at  the  same 
time  he  confessed  the  chance  was  small, 
against  the  overwhelming  fact  of  the 
stolen  goods  being  found  in  Charles's  pos 
session.  "  Was  there/7  he  asked,  "  among 
the  clerks,  any  one  who  could  be  sus 
pected  of  the  villany  of  putting  the 
stolen  goods  into  Hathaway's  pocket  ?" 
Henshaw  hesitated,  and  only  said,  in 
reply,  that  there  was  not  a  clerk  in  the 
shop  he  should  not  sooner  have  suspected 
than  Hathaway.  Henshaw  was  a  man 
of  strict  principles.  He  did  suspect — 


38  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

he  had  all  along  suspected — Otis  Jack 
son,  but  he  was  too  scrupulous  to  run 
the  risk  of  wronging  him  by  the  expres 
sion  of  suspicions  that  had  no  proof 
whatever. 

After  Charles's  first  moment  of  sur 
prise  at  Euth's  appearance — after  the 
first  burst  of  their  young  hearts — and 
after  Euth  had  sat  for  a  few  moments  on 
his  pallet,  beside  him,  with  her  arms 
linked  around  his  neck,  silent  and  shiv 
ering  with  emotions,  he  said,  "Now, 
Euthy,  we  must  not  give  way  so ;  I  bear 
it  very  well,  only  when  I  sit  down  to 
write  home;  and  then,  thinking  how 
father,  and  mother,  and  you  will  feel, 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  39 

i 

knocks  me  up.  How  did  you  get  here, 
Ruth,  so  soon?  How  did  mother  bear 
it?  What  did  father  say?"  Ruth  told 
her  story,  and  concluded  by  saying,  "To 
morrow,  Charlie,  we  shall  certainly  have 
a  letter  from  them." 

"We!  You  cannot  stay  here,  Ruth. 
Even  if  you  had  any  place  to  stay,  you 
know  father  and  mother  want  you  a 
great  deal  more  than  I  do." 

"  I  can  stay  here,  Charlie,  and  I  shall 
— and  they  would  choose  it — and  there's 
an  end  on't." 

"But,  Ruth,  you  don't  know  what  a 
place  this  is ;  nor  what  New  York  is  for 
an  unprotected  girl." 


4:0  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

"  Nonsense,  Charlie ;  I  can  protect 
my  self. " 

"Where  can  you  sleep?77 

"  Sleep  ?  I  don't  feel  much  like  sleep 
ing  ;  but  I  can  lie  here  on  the  floor,  or  I 
can  get  that  man  to  lock  me  up  in  some 
empty  cell,  like  this.  I  can  do  any  thing 
but  go  away  and  leave  you — that  I  will 
not  do." 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  the 
bolts  were  turned,  and  Henshaw  told 
Charles  that  a  lawyer  was  waiting  to 
speak  to  him. 

"  Let  him  wait  one  minute/7  said  Euth, 
and  taking  from  her  little  sack,  a  bottle 
of  Cologne,  and  comb,  and  brush,  pro- 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  41 

vided  by  Miss  Emma  Gardner,  she 
smoothed  her  brother's  tangled  locks, 
and  restored  to  his  sweet  countenance 
its  habitual  aspect.  "There,  now  you 
look  like  our  own  Charlie/7  she  said. 

Sandley  entered,  and  he  did  not  leave 
the  cell  without  being  thoroughly  con 
vinced  that  Charles  was  innocent,  and 
nearly  as  well  convinced  that  they  should 
not  be  able  to  prove  his  innocence ;  and 
so  impressed  with  the  love  of  the  brother 
and  sister,  that  he  resolved  to  strain 
every  nerve  in  their  behalf.  He  com 
forted  Charles  by  assuring  him  that  he 
knew  the  matron  of  the  prison — that  she 
was  a  humane  woman — that  he  would 


42  THE   CITY   CLERK. 

engage  her  to  furnish  his  sister  a  bed  in 
her  own  room,  and  to  see  that  Miss  Euth 
had  every  facility  in  going  to  and  from 
her  brother's  cell. 

"  Please  tell  them,"  said  Ruth,  "  I  will 
only  trouble  them  twice  a  day.  I  shall 
come  to  Charles  in  the  morning,  and  go 
away  in  the  evening,77 

"Angel  for  angel  glows  with  such  regard, 
Thus  whole,  deep,  self-forgetting.    Bowers  of  heaven 
Witness  it  in  the  cherubs'  changeless  loves; 
Earth  sees  it  in  a  sister's  heart  alone." 

Ten  days  had  passed  since  Ruth's  de 
parture  for  New  York ;  and  on  each  of 
these  days  the  parents  had  received  a 
letter  full  of  affection,  and  of  details  of 
every  occurrence  that  could  be  put  in  a 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  43 

cheerful  light.  Their  children  did  not 
express  strong  hope,  for  they  would  not 
embitter  a  too  probable  disappointment ; 
but  neither  did  they  impart  their  fears. 
"For,  if  worst  comes  to  worst,77  said 
Ruth,  "mother  will  bear  it  better  when 
I  am  with  her.77  The  deportment  of  these 
young  people — their  mutual  affection — 
and  the  earnest  devotion  of  the  sister — 
won  for  them  unusual  respect  and  at 
tention  from  the  officers  of  the  prison. 
"  There  those  innocent  children  are,77 
said  the  turnkey,  "both  innocent,  I  am 
sure  of  that.  There  they  are,  with  a 
pirate  one  side  of  them,  and  a  murderer 
the  other,  enjoying  themselves.  If  that 


44  THE   CITY   CLERK. 

aint  innocence  I  don't  know  what  is.  I 
declare,  if  I  don't  expect  some  day,  when 
I  unlock  their  door,  to  see  the  angel  of 
the  Lord  with  them — the  same  as  walked 
the  fiery  furnace I" 

"An  uncommon  girl  is  that/7  said  the 
matron.  "  Sometimes  when  we  meet  the 
vagabonds  going  along  the  corridor,  just 
turned  in  from  the  Five  Points,  she  looks 
scared,  and  gathers  her  clothes  close 
round  her,  as  if  she  were  afraid  of  the 
plague ;  yet  shell  stay  the  livelong  day 
— yes,  and  till  ten  or  eleven  at  night — 
in  that  dismal  cell,  and  talk,  and  read, 
and  keep  up  her  brother's  spirits.  She 
begins  with  the  Bible  in  the  morning, 


THE    CITY    OLERK.  45 

and  ends  with  it  at  night ;  and  between 
times  they  read  out  of  Dickens  and 
Punch,  and  every  kind  of  nonsense  Mr. 
Henshaw  brings ;  and  they  laugh  to 
gether;  and  their  laugh  sounds  like  the 
best  of  music  in  a  dark  night.  She  is  a 
wise  little  thing,  too.  Mr.  Henshaw  sent 
her  a  basket  full  of  every  kind  of  notion, 
from  the  confectioner's.  She  would  not 
take  them  to  82;  the  dear  child  gave 
them  all  to  me,  and  asked  Mr.  Henshaw 
— and  so  modestly,  too — if  he  would  send 
her  brother  every  day  a  bit  of  beefsteak, 
or  a  mutton  chop,  to  keep  up  his  health 
and  spirits.  She  has  been  what  I  call 
well  trained/7 


46  THE   CITY   CLERK. 

The  last  letter  received  from  the 
young  Hathaway,  was  dated  on  Tuesday. 
Charles's  part  expressed  not  hope,  but  a 
cheerful  courage,  that  he  was  sure  could 
not  fail  him,  while  his  friends  had  faith 
in  him.  "  You  have  trained  me  up,  dear 
parents,  he  said,  "to  believe  that  the  im 
portant  thing  is,  c  to  do  right,  not  to  seem 
right?  and  now  I  mean  to  feel  and  act 
accordingly. " 

Euth  wrote  thus :  "  The  trial  comes  on 
to-morrow  morning.  There  is  nothing 
new  come  to  light :  so  we  are  preparing 
for  the  worst.  The  amount  of  the  stolen 
articles  put  into  Charles's  pocket,  is  less 
than  twenty-five  dollars,  so  that  they 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  47 

cannot  make  grand  larceny  out  of  it; 
and  he  cannot  be  sent  to  Sing  Sing,  only 
over  to  Blackwell's  Island.  The  period 
of  his  detention  there  is  at  the  discretion 
of  the  Judge.  Mr.  Sandley  thinks  it 
cannot  be  long,  with  such  testimonials 
as  Miss  Emma  has  sent  to  us.  Oh, 
thanks  to  her !  The  worst — no,  the  best 
— of  it  is,  that  Charlie  positively  refuses 
to  have  any  suspicion  thrown  on  Otis. 
Mr.  Henshaw  feels  sure  he  is  the  real 
culprit,  and  Mr.  Sandley  thinks  it  more 
than  probable/' 

"  You  remember  his  exclamation  when 
the  clerks  were  to  be  searched.  Charles 
has  an  impression  that  he  then  felt 


48  THE    CITY   CLERK. 

something  at  his  coat  pocket,  which  we 
both  feel  sure  was  Otis,  thrusting  the 
parcel  into  it.  But  we  know  this  would 
be  no  evidence  in  court :  so  Charles  wont 
tell  even  Mr.  Henshaw,  or  Sandley,  of  it. 
He  says  time  will  bring  it  all  out,  and, 
meanwhile,  let  Otis  have  a  chance.  Is 
not  he  just  like  father?  Let  it  storm 
ever  so  horridly,  he  always  believes  it 
will  be  fair  weather  to-morrow.  Mr. 
Henshaw  feels  certain  that  Otis  will 
prove  the  rogue  at  last;  'and/  so  he 
says,  '  he  don't  see  the  use  of  sacrificing 
an  honest  fellow  to  him,  in  the  mean 
time.7  He  watches  him  as  a  cat  does  a 
mouse.  The  reasons  of  Mr.  Henshaw's 


THE   CITY    CLERK.  49 

suspicions  are  these :  Otis  is  out  late  at 
night,  and  he  comes  late  to  the  shop  in 
morning.  He  dresses  far  beyond  his 
means,  and  goes  often  to  places  of  amuse 
ment,  especially  to  the  theatre,  where, 
Mr.  Henshaw  says,  clerks  never  should 
go ;  and  Mr.  Henshaw  says,  he  has  been 
seen  in  'not  the  best  company  J  at  the 
theatre.  I  don't  know  quite  what  he 
means  by  that ;  but  I  surmise  it  is  some 
thing  awful.  The  people  where  Charlie 
boarded  were  very  fond  of  him;  and 
they  will  give  their  testimony,  that  he 
was  perfectly  regular  in  his  habits ;  and 
Mr.  Sandley  will  call  on  Messrs.  Brown 
and  Wilson,  to  testify  as  to  his  conduct 
5 


50  THE   CITY    CLERK. 

in  the  shop.  All  this,  Mr.  Sandley  says, 
may  not  overbalance  the  one  great  cir 
cumstance  against  him ;  but  this,  with 
the  documents  from  Miss  Emma,  Mr, 
Sandley  says,  will  go  a  great  way  with 
the  Governor.  So,  if  Charlie  is  sent  to 
the  Island,  I  shall  go  straight  to  Albany ; 
for  the  living  voice,  with  a  throbbing 
heart  under  it,  mother,  is  better  than  a 
dead  writing.  And  if  we  don't  get  a 
pardon,  why  then  patience,  dear  father 
and  mother — heavenly  patience  ! — such 
as  you,  dearest  father,  have  shown  us 
ever  since  we  can  remember;  and  you, 
dear  mother — only  just  borrow  a  little 
Jiope  and  cheerfulness  from  father,  and 


THE    CITY   CLERK.  51 

be  sure — be  sure  it  will  all  come  right ; 
and  Charlie  will  shine  out  to  the  world 
as  he  shines  to  us,  who  are  above  the 
clouds,  and  can  see  the  sun  all  the  while ; 
and  if  the  world  never  knows,  still  can 
not  we  be  content  and  thankful? — We 
will.  So,  dearest  mother,  take  courage ! 
God  will  help  us  all,  and  I  shall  soon 
be  with  you. 

"P.  S.  I  could  not  feel  easy  not  to 
make  one  effort  with  Otis.  I  thought  if 
he  had  plunged  us  in  this  trouble,  he 
would  feel  when  he  came  to  see  me,  and 
remembered  the  days  when  we  were 
playmates,  and  happy  together.  I  saw 
him.  I  don't  know  what  I  said.  My 


52  THE    CITY   CLERK. 

heart  was  full,  and  it  poured  itself  out ; 
but  I  got  no  satifaction.  He  denied — 
refused.  But,  oh!  dear  mother,  I  feel 
surer  than  ever,  that  he  is  the  guilty 
one.  His  eye  did  not  once  meet  mine ; 
and  he  looked  red  and  pale,  by  turns ; 
and  when  I  came  away  the  tears  were 
running  down  his  cheeks.  Who  would 
not  rather  be  Charlie  ?" 

It  is  "  Thanksgiving  Day" — a  day  of 
old  consecration,  in  New  England,  to 
family  festivity  and  family  union — a  day 
of  merry  meetings,  and  merry  makings 
— a  day  for  rustic  weddings,  and  all  sorts 
of  pleasant  doings,  and  starting  points 
in  life — a  day,  like  other  anniversaries, 


THE    CITY   CLERK.  53 

fraught  with  enjoyment  to  the  young, 
who  have  not  yet  felt  the  severing  of 
heart  chords. 

The  thanksgiving  day  connected  with 
our  story,  came  in  heavily  enough  to  the 
Hathaways.  It  was  Thursday.  Kuth's 
last  letter  was  dated  the  preceding  Tues 
day.  The  trial  was  appointed  for  Wednes 
day  morning,  and  as  it  would  be  deemed 
a  small  affair  by  the  municipal  authori 
ties,  (albeit  involving  the  happiness  of 
an  entire  family,)  it  would  probably  oc 
cupy  but  an  hour  or  two ;  and  if  it  went 
against  them,  Euth  would  leave  New 
York  in  an  afternoon's  boat  for  Albany. 

The  day  had  come  in  with  a  furious 


54  THE    CITY   CLERK. 

easterly  snow  storm.  Mr.  Hathaway  was 
refolding  Ruth7s  letter,  after  reading  it 
for  at  least  the  twentieth  time,  when  a 
sleigh  stopped  at  his  door ;  and  Colonel 
Miles,  shaking  the  snow  from  his  lion- 
skin  coat,  and  stamping  it  from  his  feet, 
opened  the  door.  "A  pretty  tedious 
storm  this,  neighbors/7  he  said.  "No 
news,  of  course,  since  the  letter  I  brought 
you  from  the  post  office  yesterday?77 

"No,  sir;  none,77  replied  Mrs.  Hath 
away,  "  we  could  not  expect  it,  could  we, 
colonel?77 

"  Of  course  not,  ma7 am ;  and  I  mis 
trust  we  shall  have  no  mail  to-day.  The 
river  will  feel  this  cold  snap.  Ruthy, 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  55 

poor  little  girl,  should  be,  according  to 
her  letter,  at  Albany  to-day ;  but  I  think 
there'll  be  no  boat  up.  However,  if  there 
is  a  mail,  you'll  be  sure  of  a  letter :  so  I 
shall  go  on  to  the  post  office,  after  meet 
ing,  and  wait  till  the  stage  comes  in.'7 

"How  thankful  we  ought  to  be  for 
such  a  kind  neighbor  as  the  colonel," 
said  good  Mrs.  Hathaway,  as  the  door 
closed  after  him. 

"Yes,  mother,  we  have  a  great  deal  to 
be  thankful  for,  on  the  right  hand  and 
the  left,  and  we  must  not  make  a  poor 
mouth  if  we  have  our  share  of  trouble." 

"I  know  I  ought  to  feel  as  you  do, 
father ;  but  I  can't  help  thinking,  all  the 


56  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

time,  what  is  Kuthy  to  do  after  Charlie 
is  sentenced  to  that  desolate  island." 

"Do?  why  shell  do  the  right  thing. 
Now,  mother,  wipe  off  your  tears,  and 
don't  forget  it's  thanksgiving  day;  let 
us  keep  it.  And  who  has  more  reason. 
Is  not  it  Kuthy  7s  birth  day?  To  be 
sure,  the  children  have  been  on  a 
troubled  sea,  but  have  not  they  lain 
their  course  well?  You  know  I  have 
nothing  to  do  but  to  sit  here,  and  read, 
and  ruminate ;  and  a  happy  life  it  has 
been  to  me,  since  I  was  quite  overset  as 
to  outside  prosperity.  I  have  got  a 
habit  of  looking  inward ;  and  I  have 
come  to  the  conclusion,  that  it  is  not  the 


THE   CITY   CLERK.  57 

circumstances  we  are  in  that  matters, 
but  how  they  find  us,  and  what  they 
make  of  us.  Look  at  our  dear  children, 
mother,  how  they  have  held  fast  their 
integrity.  Look  at  Charlie;  calm  and 
manly,  and  so  generous  about  Otis.  He 
is  not  of  those  that  hold  to  misery  loving 
company — a  mean  company  that.  And . 
dear  little  Kuthy ;  her  love  for  her  bro 
ther  has  carried  her,  as  it  were,  through 
fire  and  water!  I  tell  you,  mother,  we 
did  not  know  the  children  till  now.  A 
real  thanksgiving  day  it  shall  be  to  us.7' 
Poor  Mrs.  Hathaway  would  have  smiled 
her  assent,  but  it  was  a  sunbeam  vainly 
struggling  through  clouds.  "I'll  try  to 


58  THE    CITY   CLERK. 

make  it  seem  like  thanksgiving,"  she 
said :  so  she  brought  forth  a  provision 
basket,  sent  by  their  kind  friend,  Miss 
Gardner.  "What  a  lovely,  plump  tur 
key/7  exclaimed  Hathaway,  as  his  wife 
proceeded  to  unpack  the  basket,  "and 
cranberry  sauce,  I  dare  say,  in  that  little 
jar?  Yes;  just  like  Miss  Emma,  to 
think  of  that.  What  is  in  that  covered 
dish?  Oysters,  I  declare!  just  what  I 
told  her  I  liked  best,  when  she  asked  me 
the  question.  Mince  pie  I  pumpkin  pie ! 
apple  pudding !  tarts!  What's  that? — 
what's  that,  mother  ?" 

"  It  feels  like  a  loaf  of  cake,  and  it  is 
marked,  'for  dear  Kuth.'  " 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  6U 

"  Well ;  no  disrespect  to  the  rest  of  the 
world.  But  Miss  Emma  is  thorough  to 
poor  folks.  A  bottle  of  wine,  too !  Well ; 
Miss  Emma  and  I  are  of  opinion,  that  it's 
right  for  temperate  people  to  take  a 
cheerful  glass  once  in  a  while.  You  are 
a  teetotaller,  mother ;  but  you  won't  ob 
ject  to  my  '  making  my  heart  glad/  ac 
cording  to  Scripture.  Now,  would  it  not 
have  been  a  shame  for  us  not  to  keep 
the  day?'7 

Mrs.  Hathaway  assented  by  proceed 
ing  to  get  the  dinner  in  progress ;  and 
when  the  turkey  was  fairly  roasting  in 
the  little  stove-oven,  Hathaway  said, 
"  Come  here,  mother — I  can't  kneel,  you 


60  THE   CITY   CLERK. 

know,  I've  never  had  that  satisfaction 
since  my  leg  was  broken;  but  I  trust 
my  heart  is  in  the  right  position — kneel 

down  here  on  my  well  side,  and  we'll 

• 

have  our  worship,  though  it  be  a  dark 
day  outside  and  in."  The  wife  knelt, 
resting  her  troubled  brow  on  the  arm  of 
her  husband's  chair.  Hathaway's  spirit 
of  cheerful  gratitude  shone  like  a  sun  on 
all  the  salient  points  of  their  lives.  God's 
mercies  seemed  to  be  sown  at  broadcast 
around  them.  He  thanked  God  for  the 
peace,  prosperity,  and  progress  of  the 
country — for  their  abounding  political 
advantages  and  Gospel  privileges;  not 
in  an  inexpressive  mass,  but  in  such 


THE   CITY   CLEKK.  61 

detail,  that  each  seemed  to  have  made  its 
impress  on  his  heart.  He  spoke  of  the 
rich  harvest  of  the  year,  with  a  glow 
that  would  have  left  no  one  to  believe 
that  not  an  ear  of  it  had  been  turned 
into  his  garners.  He  thanked  God  for 
his  pleasant  home,  and  his  well-covered 
board — for  kind  neighbors  and  bountiful 
friends— for  the  dear  mother,  with  in 
dustry  that  never  tired,  and  love  that 
never  abated.  He  thanked  him  for  his 
own  health — for  painless  limbs — for  a 
contented  mind,  and  a  spirit  of  enjoy 
ment.  His  voice  trembled  slightly  when 
he  came  to  mention  his  children — "  his 

dear,  absent  children."     He  paused  for 

6 


62  THE   CITY   CLERK. 

one  instant,  and  then  added,  with  a  sin 
cere  tone  of  courage,  and  heavenly  glad 
ness,  "We  thank  Thee  that  they  have 
manifested  themselves  Thy  children,  too. 
Though  they  have  passed  through  the 
waters,  they  have  not  overwhelmed 
them ;  and  through  the  fire,  it  has  not 
scorched  them.  We  thank  Thee  that 
Thou  hast  given  them  thus  early  to  see 
the  value  of  innocence,  and  the  import 
ance  of  affection.7'  When  he  finished, 
Mrs.  Hathaway  rose  comforted,  and  said, 
"I  almost  forgot  it  stormed,  father." 
And  she  did  proceed  with  a  step  some 
what  lighter,  and  a  heart  somewhat  less 
faint,  with  her  preparations  for  dinner 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  63 

or,  as  our  country  folk  still  call  it,  supper. 
Her  eye  turned  often  and  anxiously  to  the 
clock.  She  looked  out  on  the  road  the 
colonel  was  to  come — remarked  that  the 
storm  grew  heavier — and  wondered  again 
and  again,  if  Kuth  were  on  her  way  to 
Albany.  Presently  a  sleigh  bell  was 
heard;  but  it  was  not  Colonel  Miles', 
but  another  neighbor,  returning  from 
meeting,  who  called  with  a  message  from 
the  kind  colonel.  "The  mail  was  not 
in/7  he  sent  them  word;  "it  might  not 
come  till  dark ;  but  he  would  wait  till  it 
did  come.7' 

"  The  colonel  is  wine  and  oil  too/7  said 
Hathawav,     "It  has  been  so  from  the 


64  THE   CITY   CLERK. 

beginning  of  this  trouble.  If  we  have 
a  disappointment,  there's  a  comfort 
comes  hand-in-hand  with  it.77 

The  days,  as  we  have  said,  were  at 
their  shortest.  Mrs.  Hathaway  moved 
slowly,  the  afternoon  was  very  dark,  and 
the  shadows  of  the  stormy  evening  were 
thickening,  when  the  father  and  mother 
sat  down  to  their  thanksgiving  meal. 
Mr.  Hathaway's  grace  was  much  longer 
than  usual,  but  there  was  no  allusion  to 
their  affliction.  He  could  not  now  trust 
his  voice  for  this,  his  body  and  mind 
were  beginning  to  feel  the  pressure.  It 
was  only  half  past  three !  he  wondered 
it  was  so  dark !  and  again  and  again,  he 


THE    CITY    CLEKK.  65 

wiped  his  eyes.  He  suffered  "mother," 
to  cut  up  for  him  his  favorite  bit  of  tur 
key.  He  took,  according  to  our  rural 
custom,  "  a  little  of  all  the  various  veget 
ables  and  condiments,'7  and  though  he 
remarked,  "there  was  never  a  tenderer 
turkey/'  there  seemed  never  to  have 
been  a  tougher  one  in  the  chewing.  As 
to  the  poor  mother,  she  could  not  eat, — • 
she  loathed  the  sight  of  food ;  and  when 
her  husband,  who  had  tried  not  to  ob 
serve  her  as  she  moved  the  dishes  on  the 
table,  first  out  of  their  places,  and  then 
into  them ;  and  turned  her  food  over  and 
over  on  her  plate,  without  touching  it, — 
said,  "Poor  mother,  there's  no  use  in 


66  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

trying!7'  she  moved  back  her  chair,  and 
took  refuge  in  her  little,  adjoining  bed 
room.  There  she  sat  by  the  window, 
looking  up  the  road  as  long  as  she  could 
di-scern  fence  or  tree,  as  landmark.  The 
night  settled  down  on  the  earth,  as  it 
had  on  her  spirit.  The  snow  no  longer 
fell,  but  the  wind  rose,  and  gusts  came 
sweeping  down  the  hill  side,  and  roaring 
in  the  chimney,  and  penetrating  every 
crevice  of  the  slight  tenement.  She 
shook,  as  if  an  ague  were  on  her,  as  she 
returned  to  her  husband,  and  drew  her 
chair  close  to  him.  "You  had  best  light 
a  candle,  mother/7  said  he ;  "  Colonel 
Miles  will  want  a  light  to  guide  him 


THE   CITY    CLERK*  67 

through  this  driving  storm;  light  two, 
and  set  them  in  the  window. "  She  lighted 
and  placed  them,  and  sat  down  again ; 
the  table  was  left  standing.  A  woman 
accustomed  to  perform  the  domestic 
offices  through  all  the  routine  of  life — to 
go  steadily  on,  come  what  will,  joy 'or 
sorrow,  with  the  periodical  preparations 
that  sustain  and  solace  animal  life,  must 
be  paralyzed  before  she  neglects  them. 
And  so  was  poor  Mrs.  Hathaway.  The 
thought  of  her  good,  honest,  true,  ever- 
cheerful  boy,  in  the  convict's  uniform, 
among  the  motley  gang  of  culprits, 
and  committed  vagrants  on  Blackwell's 
Island;  such  as  she  had  heard  it  de- 


68  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

scrbied,  with  the  neglect,  misrule,  and 
wretchedness  that  prevailed  there — the 
thoughts  of  her  little  Euth, — where  was 
she  this  cruel,  stormy  night  ?  No  won 
der  the  poor  woman  had  left  the  table 
standing  as  it  was  when  she  and  her 
husband  rose  from  it.  No  wonder  she 
sat  now  leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  hus 
band's  chair,  listening  for  the  colonel' s 
sleigh  bells,  and  hearing  only  the  howl 
ing  storm,  and  not  heeding  it,  she  heard 
her  husband's  little  consolations  dropped 
in  every  now  and  then,  "if  the  colonel 
comes  at  all,  he'll  come  soon;"  and  with 
a  sigh  (most  unwonted  sound,)  from  that 
bosom  of  sunny  cheerfulness;  "it  does 


THE    CITY    CLERK. 


69 


not  much  signify  whether  he  come  to 
night,  for  it's  certain  no  mail  can  come 
through  to-day.  The  colonel's  folks  will 
be  expecting  him.  I  should  not  wonder 
if  he  drove  through,  bad  as  it  is! "  A 
long — long  pause.  "  Mercy  on  us !  that 
is  a  sleigh  bell!77 — A  breathless  pause. 
"  They're  gone  by !  I  do  wish  the  colonel 
was  well  home — his  people  will  feel 
dreadfully,  and  it's  all  on  our  account. 
It  was  a  pity  he  staid,  we  might  have 
known  there  would  have  been  no  news 
from  them  to-night!"  Another  pause, 
and  a  howling  blast  of  wind,  and  the 
poor  mother  asked,  "  what  will  become  of 
Kuth  if  she  is  on  the  road  this  weather  ?" 


70  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

"Mother,  look  to  Him  who  tempers 
the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb.  If  she  gets 
Charlie's  pardon,  she'll  be  paid  for  it  all.77 

"  Pardon!77  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hathaway, 
in  the  only  proud  tone  that  ever  came 
from  her;  "I'd  not  ask  pardon  for  the 
innocent  boy.77 

"Good!  mother,  good!  keep  to  that 
brave  feeling,  and  well  weather  the 
storm.77  But  it  seemed  that  all  the 
mother 7s  courage  had  spent  itself  in  that 
one  outbreak ;  she  again  sank  into  des 
perate,  motionless  silence.  "It  is  a  bad 
night,  murmured  Hathaway,  "  and  worse 
in-doors  than  out!77  and  sad  it  was  to 
see  the  miseries  that  belong  only  to  ill- 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  41 

doing,  gathering  over  this  little  family, 
where  patience  and  pious  content  had  so 
long  reigned. 

Suddenly  Mrs.  Hathaway  raised  her 
head — her  heart  again  fluttered.  She 
dared  not  speak,  but  as  the  wind  for  a 
moment  lulled,  she  thought  she  heard  ap 
proaching  bells.  Her  husband's  slower 
senses  heard  them  too.  She  started  to 
her  feet.  "  They  have  stopped  here !  it 
is  the  colonel!"  she  exclaimed;  and  iii 
another  instant  the  outer  door  of  the 
little  porch  was  thrown  open,  and  the 
inner  door,  and  Euth  rushed  in,  and 
threw  herself  into  her  mother's  arms,  ex 
claiming,  " Cleared!  cleared!  cleared!'7 


72  THE    CITY    CLERK. 

Softly  and  slowly  after  her  came  Charles, 
thoughtful  and  considerate,  even  at  this 
moment,  and  holding  back  lest  he  should 
overwhelm  his  mother  with  sudden  joy. 
What  followed  can  scarcely  be  described. 
There  were  loud  exclamations  and  hys 
terical  bursts  of  emotion,  and  then  a 
deep  silence — first  broken  by  the  colonel, 
who  stood  aloof,  tears  of  sympathy  run 
ning  down  his  cheeks  fast  enough  to 
melt  away  the  ice  that  stiffened  his 
whiskers.  "  Goodness,  mercy,  Hath 
away  I"  he  exclaimed.  "Your  withered 
arm  is  round  Charlie's  neck!'7  And  so 
it  was,  that  arm  that  had  scarcely  had  a 
perceptible  movement  for  years,  had  re- 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  73 

ceived  a  mysterious  energy  from  the  cur 
rent  of  feeling  that  stirred  his  whole 
being.  Every  eye  was  now  turned  to 
"father;"  mother  and  children  gathered 
round  him,  and  embraced  him,  the  with 
ered  arm  fell,  but  from  the  tongue  rose 
as  joyful  a  thanksgiving  as  ever  burst 
from  a  grateful,  relieved,  faithful  heart. 

"  Well  —  good  night,  friends,  good 
night !"  said  Colonel  Miles.  "  I  go  home 
the  happiest  man  in  Berkshire,  except 
you,  Hathaway." 

"  Oh,  no,  stay  with  us,  and  eat  sup 
per,"  replied  Hathaway.  "We'll  have 
the  best  thanksgiving  in  Massachusetts, 
The  table  is  set  already,"  he  added, 


74  THE   CITY   CLERK. 

with  his  habitual  chuckling  laugh ;  and 
"  do  stay — do  stay,  dear  colonel,"  came 
from  mother,  Charles,  and  Kuth.  But 
the  colonel  could  on  no  account  stay. 
"  His  own  wife  and  children  were  wait 
ing  at  home/7  he  said;  "and  now  he 
began  to  think  considerable  of  them; 
and  what  decent  father  ever  staid  from 
his  own  children  on  thanksgiving  day." 
And  with  the  showering  thanks  and 
blessings  of  the  Hathaways,  he  departed. 
There  are  moments  when  the  outer  crust 
of  the  undemonstrative  Anglo-American 
breaks  away,  and  shows  the  glowing 
fires  beneath  it. 
Now  it  was  that  all  Miss  Emma  Gard- 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  75 

ner's  bountiful  provisions  caine  into 
play.  The  reheated  turkey,  oysters, 
mince  pie,  and  pumpkin  pie,  tarts,  and 
sauces,  melted  away  before  the  keen  ap 
petites  of  our  happy  family.  Euth's 
cake  alone  was  set  aside.  "Mr.  Hen- 
shaw,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  to  her 
mother,  "  talked  of  coming  up  the  next 
day."  Hathaway  averred,  as  he  asked 
for  another  and  another  bit,  that  he  had 
not  eaten  a  full  meal  since  Euth  went 
away ;  his  good  wife  said  every  mouth 
ful  had  tasted  bitter ;  and  Euth  did  not 
believe  that  any  thing  could  taste  good 
in  New  York.  But  these  were  only 
parenthetical  remarks,  while  every  par- 


76  THE   CITY   CLERK. 

ticular  of  their  late  experience  was  re 
lated.  Our  brief  summary  must  be  in 
strong  contrast  to  tlie  diffuseness  of  our 
friends. 

It  seemed,  that  on  the  day  proceeding 
that  on  which  Charles  was  to  have  his 
trial,  a  treacherous  friend  of  a  noted 
young  woman,  one  Matilda  Johnson, 
came  to  Henshaw,  and  told  him,  that  if 
he  would  go  to  the  theatre  that  evening, 
he  would  see  Otis  Jackson  in  the  pit — 
that  Otis  would  join  Matilda  Johnson  as 
she  came  down  from  the  gallery,  when 
the  play  was  over — and  that  this  Matilda 
would  wear  a  certain  shawl,  which  had 
been  missed  from  Brown  and  Wilson's,  a 


THE    CITY    CLERK.  77 

few  days  previous  to  Charles  Hathaway 's 
committal.  Henshaw  accordingly  went 
to  the  theatre  with  Sandley.  A  police 
officer,  well  acquainted  with  Miss  Ma 
tilda,  was  directed  to  keep  his  eye  on  her. 
Every  thing  was  right.  The  miserable 
parties  were  followed  to  their  lodging. 
Henshaw  identified  the  shawl.  Various 
other  articles,  subtracted  from  the  shop 
of  Messrs.  Brown  and  Wilson,  were  found 
among  Miss  Johnson's  clothes ;  and  she, 
and  the  wretched  young  man  whom  she 
had  caught  in  her  toils,  and  ruined,  were 
committed  to  the  Tombs.  Jackson  con 
fessed  that  he  thrust  into  Charles's 
pocket  the  stolen  goods  found  there,  and 


78  THE    CITY   CLERK. 

Charles  was,  of  course,  dismissed  honor 
ably,  without  a  trial.  "  Even  Mr.  Brown 
and  Wilson,"  Ruth  said,  in  concluding 
the  story,  "had  the  grace  to  say  they 
were  sorry  for  what  had  happened ;  and 
they  offered  Mr.  Henshaw  and  Charles 
much  better  terms  than  they  were  on 
before,  if  they  would  return  to  them; 
but  Mr.  Henshaw  is  not  the  man  to  be 
whistled  off  and  on,  at  the  pleasure  of 
Messrs.  Brown  and  Wilson.  He  is  already 
engaged  at  the  first  shop  in "  the  city, 
where  they  have  fixed  prices — where,  he 
says,  they  despise  the  Brown  and  Wilson 
fashion,  of  asking  one  price,  and  taking 
another — of  telling  the  customer,  that 


THE   CITY   CLERK.  79 

goods  cost  more  than  they  really  did 
cost — or,  that  they  have  sold  them  for 
what  they  never  did  sell  them  for — or, 
that  some  grandee,  Mrs.  So-and-So,  has 
bought  such — and,  '  that  there  is  not 
another  in  the  shop,  or  city7 — or,  any 
other  of  those  contemptible  lies  by  which 
dishonorable  dealers  impose  on  foolish 
women ;  and  by  which,  Mr.  Henshaw 
says,  father,  they  corrupt  their  clerks; 
and,  teaching  poor  boys  to  lie  for  them, 
it  cannot  be  wondered  at  if  they  end  in 
stealing  for  themselves. " 

"  And  it  does  not  end  there, "  said  Mr. 
Hathaway;  "the  covetousness,  tricking, 
and  lying,  that  are  practised  in  small 


80  THE   CITY    CLERK. 

dealings,  or  carried  into  larger  ones.  Our 
good  name  is  endangered,  and  our  coun 
try  degraded.  The  Browns  and  Wilsons 
become  speculators,  and  repudiators. 
Henshaw  is  a  sensible  man,  Kuth." 

"I  guess  he  is,  father;  and  a  true 
friend.  There  was  nothing  that  could 
be  thought  of  that  he  did  not  do  for  us, 
and  crowned  it  all,  at  the  last/7 — and 
little  Euth  struck  her  hands  joyously  to 
gether — "by  getting  Charlie  a  post  next 
to  himself,  in  the  shop  of  *  A.  T.  Stewart 
and  Co:  " 


LIFE  IS  SWEET. 


BY   MISS   CATHARINE    M.  SEDGWICK, 


"LIFE  IS  SWEET." 


IT  was  a  summer's  morning.  I  was 
awakened  by  the  rushing  of  a  distant 
engine,  bearing  along  a  tide  of  men  to 
their  busy  day  in  a  great  city.  Cool  sea 
breezes  stole  through  the  pine  tree,  em 
bowering  my  dwelling;  the  aromatic 
pines  breathed  out  their  reedy  music; 
the  humming  bird  was  fluttering  over 

the  honeysuckle,  at  my  widow ;  the  grass 

(83) 


84  LIFE    IS    SWEET. 

glittered  with  dew  drops.  A  maiden 
was  coming  from  the  dairy  across  the 
lawn,  with  a  silver  mug  of  new  milk  in 
her  hand ;  by  the  hand  she  led  a  child. 
The  young  woman  was  in  the  full  beauty 
of  ripened  and  perfect  womanhood.  Her 
step  was  elastic  and  vigorous ;  moderate 
labor  had  developed  without  impairing 
her  fine  person.  Her  face  beamed  with 
intelligent  life,  conscious  power,  calm 
dignity,  and  sweet  temper.  "How  sweet 
is  life  to  this  girl!"  I  thought,  as,  re 
spected  and  respecting,  she  sustains  her 
place  in  domestic  life,  distilling  her  pure 
influences  into  the  little  creature  she 
holds  by  the  hand!  And  how  sweet 


LIFE   IS    SWEET.  85 

then  was  life  to  that  child !  Her  little 
form  was  so  erect  and  strong — so  firmly 
knit  to  outward  life — her  step  so  free 
and  joyous! — her  fair,  bright  hair,  so 
bright,  that  it  seemed  as  if  a  sunbeam 
came  from  it :  it  lay  parted  on  that  brow, 
where  an  infinite  capacity  had  set  its 
seal.  And  that  spiritual  eye — so  quickly 
perceiving — so  eagerly  exploring!  and 
those  sweet  red  lips — love,  and  laughter, 
and  beauty,  are  there.  Now  she  snatches 
a  tuft  of  flowers  from  the  grass — now  she 
springs  to  meet  her  playmate,  the  young, 
frisky  dog — and  now  she  is  shouting 
playfully :  he  has  knocked  her  over,  and 
they  are  rolling  on  the  turf  together ! 


86  LIFE   IS    SWEET. 

Before  three  months  passed  away,  she 
had  lain  down  the  beautiful  garments  of 
her  mortality :  she  had  entered  the  gates 
of  immortal  life ;  and  those  who  followed 
her  to  its  threshold,  felt  that,  to  the  end, 
and  in  the  end,  her  ministry  had  been 
most  sweet.  "Life  is  sweet"  to  the 
young,  with  their  unfathomable  hopes — 
their  unlimited  imaginings.  It  is  sweeter 
still  with  the  varied  realization.  Heaven 
has  provided  the  ever-changing  loveli 
ness  and  mysterious  process  of  the  out 
ward  world  in  the  inspirations  of  art — 
in  the  excitement  of  magnanimous  deeds 
— in  the  close  knitting  of  affections — in 
the  joys  of  the  mother — the  toils  and 


LIFE   IS   SWEET.  87 

harvest  of  the  father — in  the  countless 
blessings  of  hallowed  domestic  life. 

"Life  is  sweet"  to  the  seeker  of  wis 
dom,  and  to  the  lover  of  science;  and 
all  progress,  and  each  discovery  is  a  joy 
to  them. 

"  Life  is  sweet"  to  the  true  lovers  of 
their  race;  and  the  unknown  and  un- 
praised  good  they  do  by  word,  <?r  look,  or 
deed,  is  joy  ineffable. 

But  not  alone  to  the  wise,  to  the 
learned,  to  the  young,  to  the  healthful, 
to  the  gifted,  to  the  happy,  to  the  vigor 
ous  doer  of  good, — is  life  sweet :  for  the 
patient  sufferer  it  has  a  divine  sweet 
ness. 


88  LIFE   IS   SWEET. 

"What/1  I  asked  a  friend,  who  had 
been  on  a  delicious  country  excursion, 
"did  you  see  that  best  pleased  you?" 

My  friend  has  cultivated  her  love  of 
moral,  more  than  her  perception  of  phy 
sical  beauty,  and  I  was  not  surprised 
when,  after  replying,  with  a  smile,  that 
she  would  tell  me  honestly,  she  went  on 
to  say:  "My  cousin  took  me  to  see  a 
man  who  had  been  a  clergyman  in  the 
Methodist  connection.  He  had  suffered 
from  a  nervous  rheumatism,  and  from  a 
complication  of  diseases,  aggravated  by 
ignorant  drugging.  Every  muscle  in  his 
body,  excepting  those  which  move  his 
eyes  and  tongue,  is  paralyzed.  His  body 


LIFE   IS    SWEET.  89 

has  become  as  rigid  as  iron.  His  limbs 
have  lost  the  human  form.  He  has  not 
been  lain  on  a  bed  for  seven  years.  He 
suffers  acute  pain.  He  has  invented  a 
chair  which  affords  him  some  alleviation. 
His  feelings  are  fresh  and  kindly,  and 
his  mind  is  unimpaired.  He  reads  con 
stantly.  His  book  is  fixed  in  a  frame 
before  him,  and  he  manages  to  turn  the 
leaves  by  an  instrument  which  he  moves 
with  his  tongue.  He  has  an  income  of 
thirty  dollars!  This  pittance,  by  the 
vigilant  economy  of  his  wife,  and  some 
aid  from  kind,  rustic  neighbors,  bring 
the  year  round.  His  wife  is  the  most 
gentle,  patient,  and  devoted  of  loving 


90  LIFE   IS    SWEET. 

nurses.  She  never  has  too  much  to  do, 
to  do  all  well ;  no  wish  or  thought  goes 
beyond  the  unvarying  circle  of  her  con 
jugal  duty.  Her  love  is  as  abounding 
as  his  wants — her  cheerfulness  as  sure 
as  the  rising  of  the  sun.  She  has  not 
for  years  slept  two  hours  consecutively. 

"  I  did  not  know  which  most  to  rever 
ence,  his  patience  or  hers !  and  so  I  said 
to  them.  '  Ah!'  said  the  good  man,  with 
a  most  serene  smile,  '  life  is  still  sweet 
to  me ;  how  can  it  but  be  so  with  such 
a  wife?'" 

And  surely  life  is  sweet  to  her,  who 
feels  every  hour  of  the  day  the  truth  of 
this  gracious  acknowledgment. 


LIFE   IS    SWEET.  91 

Oh,  ye,  who  live  amidst  alternate  sun 
shine  and  showers  of  plenty,  to  whom 
night  brings  sleep,  and  daylight  freshness 
— ye  murmurers  and  complainers,  who 
fret  in  the  harness  of  life,  till  it  gall  you 
to  the  bone — who  recoil  at  the  lightest 
burden,  and  shrink  from  a  passing  cloud, 
— consider  the  magnanimous  sufferer, 
my  friend  described,  and  learn  the  divine 
art  that  can  distil  sweetness  from  the 
bitterest  cup ! 


11 

•is; 


Gaylamount 

Pamphlet 

Binder 

|    Gaylord  Bros..  Inc. 

Stockton,  Calif. 
-  M.  Reg.  U.S.  Pat.  Off. 


M113262 


5 


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